The Secret Diary of Solid Snake
by mronimusha
Summary: At great personal expense (read: enough beer to make Snake pass out), I have procured the previously unseen...secret diary of Solid Snake.


The Secret Diary of Solid Snake

Campbell, read this and prepare to lose your security blanket  
  
Entry #1:  
  
I hate Campbell. He sends in an entire team of SEALs to kidnap me, stuffs me in a ship, then tries to claim that we're old war buddies. He didn't say something like that when I needed money for cigs, I had to blackmail him to get it. But now he wants something from me, we're old war buddies.  
  
And some girl stuck a needle in me. I don't like needles. They could have poison in them.  
  
Entry #2:  
  
Great. Great. Sodding great. First he tells me that some terrorists have a nuclear missile. Then he tells me that they have an army of super-human soldiers. THEN he tells me that they want the remains of Big Boss. THEN he tells me that there are five members of FOX-HOUND there, and Liquid Snake.  
  
Then he kicks me out of the ship. With nothing but a pistol. Talk about friendship, and being 'old war buddies'. Next chance I get, I'm burning his security blanket.  
  
Entry #3:  
  
Or should I blackmail him some more? People still laugh about him when I spread the rumour that he wore his niece's underwear. Last I heard, he was pulling his trousers down just to prove it. Life was sweet.  
  
In fact, I'm surprised he's forgotten about it.  
  
Entry #4:  
  
OK, he hadn't forgotten about it. Itching powder in the neck of the suit. And fire ants in my socks. Ouch.  
  
Entry #5:  
  
Man, that's a big helicopter. Big gun on it too. But now I've got snow in my eyes, ant bites on my feet, and a general urge to scratch.

Memo to self: First, take pictures of Campbell with security blanket and sucking his thumb. Second, burn security blanket. Third, make hundreds of photocopies. Fourth, stick them everywhere. Fifth, have sweet revenge.  
  
Entry #6:  
  
Aaaaaaaaand there's no way in, unless I want to fight my way through seventy guards with grenades and machine guns, with a damn pistol.

Memo to self: See previous memo, except replace 'hundreds' for 'all the damn copies I can make'  
  
Entry #7:  
  
HA! I'm in. Who needs guns?  
  
This air vent is getting a bit tight around the waist, though.  
  
Entry #8:  
  
I'm stuck. Shit.  
  
Entry #9:  
  
Miller just called. Apparently, he's been getting all buddy-buddy with our good friend, the Lord High Bastard Campbell. And he said something about foxholes. No mention of beer though. Has he cleaned up?  
  
...nah.  
  
Entry #10:  
  
Hey, there's someone else here besides me. Two soldiers were talking about it. For secret information, it can't be that secret. And the other guy's killed three people already...more than me. So I shot them.

Memo to self: Kill plenty of people so I can beat this guy.  
  
Entry #11:  
  
Traumatised. Just saw one of the hostages have a seizure and die. Must have been the damn fluorescent lights. Nobody likes them anyway, and now they kill people. It's like something out of a bad movie...WHEN FLUORESCENT LIGHTS ATTACK!  
  
Oh, and in other news, the terrorists have a new form of Metal Gear which can shoot nuclear missiles and could easily destroy any nation's army. Now for the sports...  
  
Entry #12:  
  
Now Campbell (hereafter known as Idiot without a VIllage, or IWAV for short) tells me he doesn't even know everything about the damn mission. I feel reassured.  
  
Entry #13:  
  
The good news is there was a woman here who opened the cell door. The bad news is she was about to kill me. The worst news is she mistook me for Liquid.  
  
I could make a career out of that...being paid to be a lookalike for a supervillian...but then I'd have people trying to kill me all the time. Still, no different from normal then.  
  
Entry #14:  
  
Damn woman. She screamed when I touched her butt, and then about seventeen guards came storming in. What is it with women and screaming? You'd think I was trying to rape her. Even after I saved her, she sprayed mace in my eyes.  
  
Entry #15:  
  
Whoa...it's like I'm in the Twilight Zone or something...a guy just appeared, floating in front of me, then the woman shot at me (I didn't get hit. Can't touch this), then I had a hallucination that I was singing 'Barbie Girl' in front of a crowd of Metal Gears. Maybe IWAV is right...I should get off the cigs.  
  
Entry #16:  
  
RE: Revenge on IWAV - Replace all of his Linkin Park and Slipknot with Britney Spears. That should get the bastard back for the fire ants in the socks, at least...  
  
Entry #17:  
  
One of my hostages is already, and the other is tied to a concrete pillar with C4 all around him. All the while, I have a guy who thinks he looks like Clint Eastwood (despite the obvious handicap that he is RUSSIAN), and who calls himself Revolver Ocelot.  
  
Ocelot? That's just a pathetic rank. It's worse than Flying Squirrel.  
  
Entry #18:  
  
Woo! I've got a guardian angel or something...although I don't think guardian angels usually use swords and kill people. Anyway, some invisible guy cut off Revolver's (hereafter known as Eastwood Lookalike, or EL for short) hand, and set off the explosives. And then he had a seizure. It was, in a word, terrifying. Still, at least the hostage is safe.  
  
Entry #19:  
  
And now the other hostage is dead. Why did I come here again?  
  
Entry #20:  
  
So, I have to find a scientist guy while I have hundreds of soldiers out there trying to kill me.

Memo to self: When you get back, leave a red sock in with IWAV's whites.  
  
Entry #21:  
  
At least some good's come out of it - I have to work with the hot woman again.  
  
Entry #22:  
  
The hot woman is IWAV's niece. To coin a phrase - Bugger. It's not fair; the first reasonably hot woman I've seen in months and any time I try to flirt with her, IWAV's on the Codec. Every second killing him seems like a more attractive  
  
Entry #23:  
  
Hmm...IWAV's niece really does has a nice butt...mmm...  
  
Entry #24:  
  
Ow. I think she hit me on purpose. All I did was tell her to stay out of my way, and she kicked me in the groin. It's not fair. While women can't get that degree of pain from being hit, whatever stings on a guy's face hurts like the FIERY HOT BLAZES OF HELL in the groin!  
  
Entry #25:  
  
What is it with women and me? I tell her to stay away from me, she calls me a bastard. I ask her to hide, she tells me she's in an enemy uniform and walking about the base. Then I called up the doctor girl, and she said something about not smoking and that I'd die within a few years. Is it me or the women...  
  
...nah, it has to be the women. I kick too much ass.  
  
Entry #26:  
  
Diary, who in the hell is Deepthroat? Some guy you've been seeing? Does he think the famous purple stuffed worm in flapjaw space with the tuning fork really does do a raw blink on Hari-Kari rock?  
  
Entry #27:  
  
...yeah, it's the damn cigs. IWAV must have replaced them with some druggy...things?  
  
Entry #28:  
  
My God. I'm supposed to take out a damn tank with GRENADES?!  
  
RE: RE: Revenge on IWAV - Replace all of his Linkin Park and Slipknot with Britney Spears, and everything else with Gilbert and Sullivan.  
  
Later:  
  
A machine gun, a tank cannon, and the ability to run over mines without getting hurt?  
  
Later:  
  
...and in addition to that, a massive black guy with a gun taken from a HELICOPTER?!  
  
Entry #29:  
  
Like I said - can't touch this. No-one calls me a snake without getting blown to bits with grenades.  
  
Entry #30:  
  
IWAV just called me a Snake. I might have to kill him too.  
  
Entry #31:  
  
...I refuse to be addressed as 'Snake' any more. I should have been a Fox, so I will only reply to 'Fox'. Solid Fox...it has a nice ring to it.  
  
The tests were rigged anyway. I'm only Snake because I flipped the judges off when they said I should stop smoking. That, and I accidentally shot one of them. It's very cat's in the cradle - I don't want to talk about it.


End file.
